On Card Games and Play…

I keep thinking about the how much of yesterday’s letter from Alex was taken up with a description of the sailors’ preoccupation with a card tournament. Here they are, at sea during World War II, uncertain of where they are headed and what dangers they will face. And yet, these young men are all anticipating, focused on, and keeping score of an ongoing game tournament of pinochle. It speaks to how – no matter the circumstance – people will find ways of coping by creating community and focusing on more manageable wins and losses. Even when the stakes are as high as they were in 1944, we glimpse how card games, the mess hall, and general search for camaraderie distracted the men from the daunting reality of their situations. Here was a game in which there were daily winners and losers, the men could keep score, and the risks and rewards were tangible.

This, to me, feels similar to everyone making sourdough starters, or learning a new craft during the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. Faced with an overwhelming new reality, people focused on small wins, finding things to do with their hands and distracting themselves with various forms of play (I still might be the only one who has never played Animal Crossing). It also speaks to the power and refuge of creativity and highlights why it is so hard to give up now that people are returning to offices and losing some of the autonomy the last few years have afforded them. (I know this doesn’t apply to everyone, or to the sailors in WWII, so forgive me for relating only my own experience.) While a global pandemic in the age of the internet and WWII on a ship are very different experiences, there is something especially human about the monotonous moments during crises.

I can’t think of a much more claustrophobic experience than living on a ship. Yes, there were times at port, but the rest of the time Alex’s world was severely curtailed and limited. The card games were an escape and Alex – who was older than most when he joined the Navy, who wasn’t a native English speaker, and who had already left a continent behind before leaving the U.S. – was front and center in the excitement. It also occurred to me that unlike when I started this blog, I’m now (at 36) older than Alex was when he wrote these letters. It occurs to me just how young these men were. And while play is important at any age, many of them had their youthful shenanigans aboard a ship bound for combat.

In March, my cousin Elena (Adrienne’s daughter) gave me the oversized deck of cards that Alex used to play with us – his grandchildren – after macular degeneration took most of his eyesight. These cards have new meaning to me after reading this letter. So, who wants to learn a new game with me?